


Klaine AU Friday

by EverythingandAnything



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-07
Updated: 2012-08-20
Packaged: 2017-11-11 15:28:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/480015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EverythingandAnything/pseuds/EverythingandAnything
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A world where Klaine jump into a different AU every week!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fairytale AU

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone!
> 
> For those of you who don''t know me, I am Everything and Anything and this is my collection of Klaine AU Fridays ficlets! I hope you enjoy them! 
> 
> The characters named will be mentioned in the drabbles at some point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Glee, Klaine or the Inheritance Cycle
> 
> Note: This was first published on the Klaine AU Fridays Tumblr (go check it out, it's awesome!) under the name of E and my fanfiction.net account (of the same name). Thatcher comes from Margaret Thatcher dog (the toy dog that Kurt gives to Blaine)
> 
> Warnings: Mentions of torture and injuries, very minor character death (only if you squint) and scenes of battle
> 
> Spoilers: Characters for the episode Big Brother and some events in Eragon (first book of Inheritance Cycle)

As stones from the castle roof began to tumble towards them and a dragon's snarl of rage filled the air, Blaine lashed out at the shadowy figure, a gurgling cry of surprise his reward as his dagger sunk into flesh. Quickly, he darted towards the Elf's hiding place, sheathing his weapon as he went, while the quiet  **twangs**  of a bowstring whispered in the air. There was a pained hiss when he turned once more towards the Shade, all that remained was a rapidly-disappearing cloud of smoke. Blaine turned towards his brother with a weary but triumphant smile, his voice rising to overcome the noise of raining debris. "You did it! You killed him!"

His brother Cooper flashed a smile, "Looks like I did! Oh how the bards will sing of me now!"  
Blaine forced down his retort as his body turned to face the mystical being before him. Between the approaching war cries of the soldiers, Cooper's ode to self-love and the thinning rain of rubble, he had no time to access the Elf's injuries. Carefully, he maneuvered the Elf over his shoulder, one arm reaching up to hold him in place, while the other drew Pectus. Beside him, he was dimly aware of Cooper's sudden silence and the almost inaudible voice of a bow and arrow and the war cries of the soldiers tumbling in through the doorways. After all, nothing really drew attention like a honey-coloured dragon descending into the chaos it had created…

The wind whistled as Thatcher soared into the air, her amber coloured wings flapping through the midnight sky. Dimly, she was aware of her Rider's presence within her mind, but she ignored his inquiries about her injuries, choosing instead to question his state of health and their unexpected companion. As a flushed Blaine dodged her teasing accusations about the Elf, she allowed a toothy smile to appear on her lips, grinning despite the pain her injuries were causing her.  _ **Maybe he's found his mate…**_  As she closed her mind to her Rider's and opened to his slightly-irritating brother, she found that they had the same mindset. With another hum of content, parchment-like wings flapped and the awe-inspiring jewel of topaz flew on.

When they finally escaped the borders of the city and into a sheltered mountain clearing, Blaine wasted no time in healing Thatcher's injuries and inspecting Cooper's nonexistent wounds before turning his full attention to the Elf. He knew it was a male Elf ever since he had laid eyes on him in the dungeons, but only now did he fully notice and acknowledge his mythological beauty, his breath hitching as he did. Despite the marks of torture that branded his moonlit skin (or what was visible of it) and the tangled locks of chestnut hair that draped across his clenched forehead, the elf was beautiful.  _No,_  Blaine thought as he shook his head.  _He's perfection in every way._ Carefully, he pulled away the Elf's dirty tunic, exposing yet more scars that covered the silken skin. As salty diamonds dripped from his eyes and his lips mouthed the spell of healing over the visible injuries, he extended his mind to the Elf's, speaking in the ancient language as he did.  _I don't know if you can hear me, but I am a friend and a Dragon Rider. I just wanted to let you know that you are safe and…_  Realising what he was about to declare, he withdrew his mind before it could whisper it. A blush of shame dusted his cheeks as he considered his actions.  _What are you thinking Blaine Anderson? You've got no right in how the Elf should feel about you! You're supposed to be caring for him, not taking advantage of him! No, if anything happens between either of you, it shouldn't be your decision but the Elf's._ And with his own mental scolding as the basis, Blaine made his vow.

As he laid down to rest with all his companions under the veil of security of Thatcher's wing and the warmth from her body, Blaine allowed his unshared thought to dance in the privacy of his own mind.  _And you are the most impressive, beautiful and brave being I have ever laid eyes upon._


	2. Vintage AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! This is Everything and Anything with the theme of the week: Vintage! Basically, this is inspired by the "masturbation" scene from The First Time, where Blaine dances and Kurt lusts. Please read, comment and subscribe!  
> P.S. I'm sorry that I suck at writing smut
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Glee, Klaine or Bobby Darin (and his music)
> 
> Note: This was first submitted to the Klaine AU Fridays Tumblr under the name of E and and fanfiction.net (under the same name)
> 
> Spoilers: Things in Blaine's bedroom and Klaine's dance moves
> 
> Warnings: Our two boy being perfectly in love/massive amounts of fluff and implications of sex

As the reminders of the outside world slipped away, and Kurt Hummel entered the comfortable confines of his boyfriend's room, a grin replaced the smile on the contours of his face at the site before him. A familiar tune tinkled out of a retro boombox as said boyfriend waltzed around the room, eyes closed with a blissful smile on his face. An inaudible hum of happiness vibrated in Kurt's throat as he allowed himself to shamelessly appreciate the view before him, body swaying to the rhythm as he did. An even bigger grin lit up his face as Blaine spun around, the look of pleasure on his face replaced by that look as he noticed the highly-anticipated arrival.

Without breaking stride, Blaine Anderson surged forward, arms clasping around his boyfriend's waist as he pulled him in close, noses touching in a tender Eskimo kiss as the next track began. "Hello there, Mr. Hummel."  
Kurt grinned at the words, arms slipping up to lovingly cradle Blaine's head. "Hello there too, Mr. Anderson." Kurt pressed their lips together in a gentle kiss, pulling away as the intro of the song finished, and the lyrics began to fill the room.

_Somewhere_

With a tender smile on Blaine's mouth, the two lovers began to move in a not-so-classic waltz, a giddy grin settling on Kurt's lips as they did. He loved it when they did this, this little dance that was just between the two of them, a dance no one would ever be able to know. And in his heart, he knew that Kurt loved it too.

_Beyond the sea  
Somewhere waiting for me_

Kurt spun Blaine out in their signature move, one perfected over repeated dance sessions over the holidays. The same dance sessions they were having now, only the ones now were more…intimate. As Blaine pulled Kurt towards him, he smiled darkly, well aware of the whirls of lust that had begun to lace orbs of glasz and topaz.

_My lover stands on golden sands  
And watches the ships that go sailin'  
Somewhere_

Blaine laughed as Kurt literally leapt into his arms, their hands tightening around one another as the dance quickly stepped out of the remaining traditional-dancing territory and bounded into giddy we're-in-love-and-you-can't-do-a-thing-about-it-dancing territory. Somehow during the events that followed (events that involved passionate kisses and the removal of clothing), music still tinkled out of the boombox, a soundtrack of love for two very-in-love boys.


	3. Vintage AU 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! I got hit with another plot bunny during Vintage! week, so may I present to you: Vintage 2! This was inspired by the Captain Jack Harkness episode of Torchwood (Children of Earth never happened, do you understand?). I'm not entirely sure if Kiss-The-Boys-Good-bye dances actually happened, but for the sake of Klaine, let's just say that they did. ;) I hope you enjoy it and if it suits you, please comment/subscribe!
> 
> Disclaimer; I do not own Glee, Klaine or Torchwood
> 
> Note: This was first submitted to the Klaine AU Fridays Tumblr under the name of E and fanfiction.net account of the same name. Rachel's father and uncle are in fact Leroy and Hiram Berry (her two canon dads), because homophobia sucks and love couldn't be expressed when it should have been.
> 
> Warnings: War time scenes with bonus Hummelberry

"Rachel Berry, if you don't slow down this instant, I swear I will say nothing when you get pulled aside for suspicious activity!"  
The girl in question let out a laugh as she spun around, dark hair and flowery party dress fanning out around her as she did. "Kurt Hummel, you and I both know that nothing of the sort will happen."  
Kurt sighed, resisting the urge to run his fingers through his carefully styled hair, choosing instead, to smooth out the non-existent wrinkles in his borrowed suit. While being the childhood best friend of Rachel Berry had its many advantages, her influencing him to do stupid acts was not one of them. Stupid acts that involved running out into the streets of London during the height of the London Blitz in order to attend a Kiss-The-Boys-Good-bye dance. How she even managed to convince him to do such a thing – Think of all the boys there Kurt! All of those solider boys! And the singing and the dancing! – Oh yeah that was how she did it. "Rachel, we are in the midst of a World. War. Of course, something's going to happen."  
With a gentle smile, Rachel stepped forward, heeled shoes clicking in the rubble of the streets, gloved hands reaching for Kurt's. "Kurt, I understand that you're worried about all of this. I mean, my father and my uncle nearly ripped their hair out when I told them of our plans tonight-"  
Before she could continue, the air raid siren wailed its song throughout the city, a proclamation of the sorrow that was to come. With a screech, the ingénue seized the hand of the dumbstruck male and together, they began to race for their lives.

As the sound of planes inched closer and Rachel's cries of help grew more frantic, Kurt Hummel was sure of one thing. He was going to die. The mantra drilled itself into his head, drowning him in an ocean of terror. I'm going to die. The thought repeated itself mercilessly, even as he joined his voice with Rachel's, and grew stronger in intensity as the lights in nearby houses began to flicker out. Beside him, Rachel began to hyperventilate, her eyes desperately searching the street corners around them. With a determined huff, she dashed towards the nearest one, an idea clearly in her mind. "We've got to get to the nearest Underground Kurt."  
So that's what the idea was. As they disappeared into the darkness, Kurt suddenly realised that they had no idea where to go.

Suddenly, a strong hand gripped his free arm and with a gasp, he turned, only to be come face to face with another man, dressed in a soldier's uniform. A breathtakingly gorgeous man he should admit. Said man's face broke into a melancholy smile. "Are the two of you lost?"  
Before, his lungs could draw in breath to answer – Didn't he just take one? Goodness, how could he have used that breath up so quickly? – Rachel piped up, trembling hand extended in a ladylike manner. "As a matter of fact, yes, yes we are lost and if you could be so kind, would you please escort me and my friend to the nearest Underground station?"  
A gentle smile lit up the soldier's face as his hand reached out and gripped Kurt's. Before Kurt could register what was going on (or Rachel's barely suppressed cry of glee), the soldier was dragging them through the streets. As if he sensed his concern, the soldier spoke again, albeit quietly this time. "My name's Blaine. And don't worry I know a short cut."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! the theme of the week is Zombie Apocalypse! so arm up and be prepared to kick some brains! Also, if I made any errors regarding zombies, I apologise. Please enjoy and comment/subscribe!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or The Walking Dead
> 
> Note: This was first submitted to the Klaine AU Fridays Tumblr under the name of E and fanfiction.net account under the same name. This was inspired by Cherokee Rose (episode in The Walking Dead)
> 
> Warnings: Claustrophobic scenery, blood and gore and mentioned character death (not Kurt or Blaine)
> 
> Spoilers: Scenes from Cherokee Rose and characters from Big Brother (Glee)

It began in the most cliché way possible. A virus which was supposed to 'cure cancer' had mutated rapidly, turning those infected with it into the Undead. Said Undead then began their Walk of Terror all over the world. It was cliché in all the biggest ways possible. But that didn't mean that it wasn't terrifying.

Blaine dry heaved as he descended deeper into the organs of the well, the stench of rotting flesh filling his lungs as he did. Above him, sunlight flittered almost fearfully down the abyss, the diminishing rays offering him a whisper of hope. Below him… well, he didn't want to think about what was below him.  _Okay Blaine Anderson, just slip the rope around its waist and then give the signal to pull. It shouldn't be that hard…right._  His feet shot out of their own accord, worn boots scraping the cells of the prison and fingers gripping the spare end of the rope as his mind allowed the elixir of fear to eat at his body. The water below began to ripple with stronger movement. He sucked in a shaky breath, choking on the rancid stench that filled his lungs. He tilted his head back towards the sunlight. "A little lower!"

As his lover was lowered into the darkness below, Kurt's hands tensed on the rope, the lifeline, the only link between him and the boy he loved so much. Steadying his hummingbird heart and trembling hands, he turned around to the remaining of the group. The group, who had been with them since the start. Quinn, a tough, independent young Yale undergrad with a tough past, Lauren, a promising but biting Romanian Wrestling champion and one of the daughters of the owner of the ranch, Puck, a brash but kind-hearted pool cleaner, Cooper, Blaine's self-obsessed but (ultimately) caring older brother and Santana, a young woman who was caught in the war of confusion he himself had fought in years earlier.  _Before all of this happened. Before I lost everyone in my family. Before I lost Dad, Carole, Finn and even Rachel._ His hands tightened on the rope, the hemp biting into the flesh of his palms. His lungs filled with the stench of sweat and fear as he slowly lowered the lifeline into the darkness. Suddenly, the rope went slack, followed by a panicked cry echoed from the throat of the well and a desperate bellow of hunger.

He was going to die. He was going to die alone in the watery darkness, his flesh gorged on by a semi-drowned zombie. As the lifeline around his waist and upper legs connecting him to the outside world slackened dramatically and the looped rope slipped out of his hands and draped itself comically on the beast's head, it awoke into frenzied movement. That's when the first scream rang out of his throat. For the first time since a Walker had attacked Kurt, a scream of pure terror emerged from his throat. As an almost giddy cry of glee emerged from the Walker, Blaine scrambled up along the slippery sides of the well, feet and fingers scrambling for a foothold, a gap that would provide him with precious leverage. All the while, the threat below roared with chilling frustration and reached for him with grotesque arms. As algae accumulated on the soles of his boots and under his nails, and his kicks and grabs grew steadily weaker and the lunges of the monster below him grew so much closer, Blaine closed his eyes and tilted his head towards the light above, mouths forming out four words.  _I. Love. You. Kurt._ Then he quickly did what was needed to be done.

As soon as the rope flew forward and almost escaped the confines of their hands, panic began to settle into the humans above. Immediately, Kurt dashed towards the broken pump, the stupid machine that they had wrapped the rope around and was now risking the life of their friend – and in his case, lover. As his arms wrapped around the rusted metal, he felt the arms of everyone wrap around him, working as one to save Blaine.  _Don't you dare die on me._  As another yelp of terror emerged from the well, Kurt choked back his own tears of terror. Around him, he was only dimly aware of the multiple things around him: Santana's painful grip on his bare bicep, Puck's white-knuckled grip on the taut rope, Quinn's fingers curling tightly around the metal and joining his, Cooper's arms around his waist and Lauren's crushing grip on his - and judging by the pained look on her face – Quinn's shoulders. As their cries of frustration and exertion entered the air and more rope emerged from the bowels of the well, hope began to flutter in their stomachs, not daring to take flight. Then with a final cry of exertion, they freed the prisoner.

Blaine crawled over the lip of the well, body slick with algae, breath escaping his trembling body in uneven gasps, but to Kurt, he never looked more beautiful.  _Okay, now I know why people suddenly make out after life-endangering situations._ The thrill of seeing a loved one alive really was exhilarating. Before he knew it, Blaine was in his arms, their lips pressed together in a bruising kiss, lifting them temporarily from the harsh reality around them. An exaggerated cough tore them back to the earth. As their – slightly sheepish – eyes looked towards the source, Santana stood above them, a smirk painted on her lips as she considered them. "Okay boys, now that you've had your reunion moment, I'm sorry to inform you that we're now back to square one."  
Blaine gave a grim smile through his gasps, then tugged on the rope. The taut rope.

"Okay people, put some backbone into it! That means you too Puckerman!"  
"Okay, I got it Santana!"  
An unpleased cry emerged from the well as the group – lead by Santana – and joined by an unenthusiastic pony, began their second task. As their respective war cries filled the air and as inches of the Walker's swollen body began to slowly emerged, the sun seemed to shine just a little bit brighter. As its upper torso was dragged over the edge, a breeze seemed to slash through the still air, silent but for the cheers and inhuman wails. Then with a sickening  _squelch_ , the monster broke into two, its lower body and grey innards tumbling back into the confines of the well, landing with a final  _splash_ , its upper body and decayed organs tumbling onto the surface, coating the dying grass with blood _._ As the Walker continued its squeals of displeasure, Cooper sighed, before tipping the edge of his ridiculous cowboy hat over his sweaty forehead. "Well, what do we do now?"  
Quinn stepped forward, a battered stick in her hands. With silence as King, she struck the Walker in the head once, twice, three times before it finally stilled. With a grimace, she threw the bloodied branch away. "We survive."  
And with these words, the group retreated to the safety of the house, the final two members of the group linking their hands together in a lover's hold as they did.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> It's Klaine AU Friday again and the theme of the week is: Superhero! I hope you all had a good week, day, hour, minute or second, just something small to make you smile!  
> So I just wanted to say that I dedicate this particular drabble to those who died in the TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR SHOOTINGS AND DEATH:
> 
> The Aurora shootings. R.I.P. Jessica Ghawi (24), Veronica Moser-Sullivan (6), John Larimer (27), Jesse Childress (29), Alexander Boik (18), Jonathan Blunk (26), Rebecca Wingo (32), Alex Sullivan (27), Gordon Cowden (51), Micayla Medek (23), Alexander Teves (24) and Matthew McQuinn (27). You will be remembered.
> 
> END TRIGGER WARNINGS:
> 
> Please enjoy, subscribe and comment!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or Klaine or X-Men in any way.
> 
> Note: This was first submitted to the Klaine AU Fridays Tumblr under the name of E. If I made any mistakes regarding superheroes, please tell me.
> 
> Warnings: None

The thing that Kurt loved about the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning was the safe and friendly atmosphere that seemed into the very walls of the mansion. Of course, knowing Professor X, there probably were variations of defense technologies embedded in the mortar and bricks, but that didn't diminish the euphoric feeling that swam through his veins everytime another student waved him over with a genuine smile. The thing that Kurt hated about the Institute, was the atrocious hour that he had to wake up at for lessons (of course, they were more interesting and more applicable to life than his former school, but that fact didn't erase time). Granted, he really shouldn't attend the midnight icebreaker sessions, but they were actually fun in their own cliché ways, and getting to make new friends was definitely a bonus. He winced as his comforter dropped to the oyster-coloured carpet, a rush of cool air biting at his limbs. With a stifled cry of displeasure, Kurt motioned in an upwards motion, carefully maneuvering the comforter back over his body as he floated back into a hazy dream. Almost minutes later, the dreaded alarm began to wail its song, Kurt groaning, before pointing his finger in the general direction of the P.A. system. He wasn't surprised when it continued to ring, albeit with an intensified passion. Of course Professor X would rig the system like that. With a stifled groan, Kurt slipped out of the warm confines of the bed, before using telekinesis to tug apart the gauzy drapes, the morning light slipping quietly into the room. He didn't expect to see what he expected to see.

Blaine Anderson woke with a grumble as the alarm began to screech like the harpy that it was, rousing him from a broken sleep. He quickly surveyed his surroundings, and realised that he was on the floor, blanket a tangled mess around his legs. Again. Ever since he had begun molting, with feathers the colour of autumn leaves replacing the previous whiskey shaded ones, he had been periodically moody and sleepy, a common side-effect, he was told, of molting. He groaned as his wings stretched to their full limit, a kaleidoscope of ruffled feathers quivering in the sleepy sunlight. With another groan, he allowed his body to stretch, limbs reaching out towards the milky ceiling and the carpeted floor as his wings lifted his weight and allowed the blanket to fall carelessly to the ground. As he completed his rotation in mid-air, a whispering breeze crept through his open window, and his eyes widened at the site.

As both their eyes met, both felt a jolt that they had never felt before. Later, the two of them would meet in the quiet courtyards in the early hours of the sunset. Later they would become friends, best friends and then passionate lovers. Later, they would have to fight.


	6. Villain AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, it’s Klaine AU Friday again and may I present to you: Villain Klaine! First off, I want to apologise for my late entry. I also want to thank everyone who has ever read my writing, you all mean a lot to me and are my main source of motivation. Without further ado, please read, comment, subscribe and most importantly, enjoy! Yes I know these messages are cliché, but sometimes, cliché works. I’m also not sure if this would count as villain but go with it please?  
> P.S I did not write all of these drabbles at the same time (I decided to post them at the same time)  
> P.P.S. who else watched The Box Scene? Tkjfgndkslfklasdfjilsdfjdsjlflfkn! 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or Klaine
> 
> Note: This was first submitted to the Klaine AU Fridays Tumblr under the name of E. This was inspired from a scene in Shaolin.
> 
> Warnings: Allusions to war, a fight scene, descriptions of blood and death of two OC characters

_Before you ask, no, it is not true what they say about us. We are peaceful and try our hardest to help the needy. But food has been running out and with the warlords who have been casing all this needless slaughter and their endless supplies nearby, what were we to do? My name is Blaine Anderson, and I am one of the last of the rebels that are New Directions. With me is my boyfriend and fellow gatherer Kurt Hummel, our leaders Santana Lopez and Tina Cohen-Chang, Tina's boyfriend, my best friend and quartermaster Mike Chang. We're the last of the rebels and this is our story._

As Kurt Hummel silently slipped across the war-torn rooftops, he silently lamented the full moon that watched over the derelict town with an unblinking eye, empty save for the warlord's forces. Everyone in the rebel force knew what a full moon meant. A full moon meant more chance of being seen. A full moon meant more chance of being noticed and being shot at and dragged from the rooftops, before being hauled off to who-knew-where. A trip into the stores of the enemy  _during_  a full moon night meant desperation.  _And we are desperate._  As his worn leather boots began to hover over the side of the gutter, Kurt slid a gloved hand over his chest, fingers clutching at the necklace behind the woolen material.  _Wish me luck Dad._  Before the mere memory of his father's smiling face could return, he continued on, breath expelling from his lips in a cloud of flowing mist. Carefully, he allowed himself to tentatively slide over the frosted metal of the gutter and into the loving shadows of a balcony.

As Kurt flittered from rooftop to balcony and to rooftop again, Blaine dashed through the deserted streets, empty save for the patrols of ruthless soldiers. Under the watchful eye of the moon above, the lone figure ran, debris from war swirling around his ankles. Tucking himself into the dark confines of an alleyway, Blaine shivered with every trembling breath as the ominous footsteps of the fatal foot soldiers clicked rhythmically closer. Carefully, he traced his route to the treasure trove of supplies to his mind, a desperate attempt to distract himself from the thought of death.  _Click Clack._  The footsteps inched closer.  _Click Clack._  He felt his heartbeat accelerate.  _Click Clack._  The footsteps stopped. Blaine let out a shaky breath, performed out of instinct and not out of free will.  _Click Clack._  A light suddenly flashed in his direction, and despite his attempts to hide himself, the beam caught his whispered breath curling in the air.  _Shit._  As his enemies drew their blades and ran at him, Blaine Anderson regretfully drew his own.  _Please, let me live._ A smile of metal danced in the air as the first blow struck.

The minute Kurt saw the traitorous light, shadow had dragged back into its arms as he peeked out from beneath a tattered cloak. When the sounds of metal biting metal began to shriek through the night, a spike of fear drilled into the core of his heart.  _Blaine._  Abandoning safety, he vaulted over the railing, terrified heart screaming in the cage of his chest as his body swung towards the building.  _Blaine._  His feet clattered against the broken brick, fingers scrabbling in between the gaps for purchase. A sudden scream of pain echoed through the air.  _Blaine!_  His foot slipped in the crumbling mortar and with the grace of a wingless butterfly, he collapsed the final few feet to the unforgiving ground.  _No time for pain._  He dashed on.

The thing is, fights never happen like they do in the movies. The attackers don't line up and wait for their turn. Rather, they dash at you as a merciless group out for blood.  _And nothing stirs up the blood of a predator as much as the sight of prey._  The bitter thought rang through Blaine's mind as he parried, deflected and dodged blow after blow, sweat beading at his temples.  _I hate this._ He deflected yet another amateur blow and his heart sank further.  _No! Please don't be…_  As his closest attacker dashed into the moon's eye, Blaine felt his heart empty from the bowl of his chest; this crazed attacker was young, younger than him even, eyes bright with terrified energy.  _I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry._ As the boy-soldier dashed at him one final time, Blaine jack-knifed out of the blade's hungry reach, and with a soft sigh of regret, plunged his own between his ribs. Before the shallow gasp of pain could even reach the heavens, Blaine gave his blade – now gorging greedily on spilled blood and torn organs – a final twist, silencing the adolescent voice with a wet squelch. A diamond of a tear rolled down his cheek, even as he felt the rush of movement from behind his exposed and unprotected back.  _I'm sorry._

When Kurt Hummel rounded the corner with a bruised body and dust in his wake, a mental image of blood and a non-existent body had flooded his mind, drowning him with anguish that threatened to choke him until he collapsed. But anguish was common in a blind war and Kurt Hummel had learned that long ago. As he watched the unfamiliar blade wink in the moonlight, he dashed the final feet, his own weapon appearing from its sheath. As the smooth metal hacked through flesh and life, Kurt closed his eyes, senses suddenly overrun with the primal scent of blood and death. As he reopened them to the world, ice-blue met amber in a blank gaze. Kurt was the first to move, extending his remaining clean hand. "We've gotta go before they find us."  
With a gentle nod, Blaine accepted the clean hand with his own. Neither talked about the deaths that night. But both knew that it wouldn't be the last time they took such action.


	7. Olympic AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Olympic fever has officially hit Klaine AU Fridays! I guess these summaries will get shorter and shorter because I’m pretty sure everybody here wants to read the fic and not my words! Very well then, here we go! Please read and enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Glee nor am I part of the Olympics Committee
> 
> Note: As always, this was first submitted to the Klaine AU Fridays Tumblr under the name of E and to my fanfiction.net account. I also honestly don’t know what kinds of sex shenanigans go on in the Olympic Village (I’ve only heard about the condoms) or the exact terms used in diving and boxing so please bear with me!
> 
> Warnings: Allusions to sex
> 
> Spoilers: Character from Big Brother

_Your feet grip the familiar material of the diving board, the going-ons of the crowd dull in comparison to the booming of blood in your ears. You hear the signal for you to start. You bounce. You jump. Your body twists and turns in the air, performing a series of tricks you barely remember. The water rushes up to greet you. You break the surface. Silence. Weightlessness. You swim towards the surface. Your head breaks through, lungs gasping for air. You exit the water, the chill settling in. You receive your score. You dive again. Ha! If only it was that simple!_

With a huff, Kurt Hummel pulled himself out of the pool, the unforgiving bite of cool air nipping him in all the soaked areas of his body. With another groan, he padded back towards the steps of the diving tower, jaw stretching in a yawn as he did. Even the rush of practicing dives – five and counting – hadn’t been able to lift his head from the cloud of drowsiness that had been smothering him since mid-morning. _At least I don’t have a competition today._ As his storm grey eyes flicked towards the clock, he silently cursed the multiple individuals who had been unashamedly loud the night before; their sounds of pleasure penetrating even the multiple pillows he had situated around his head. _The least you could have done was be quiet! Some people – I – need to sleep!_ With a low growl, he ran his fingers through his thick chestnut hair, scraping it viciously out of the way of his vision, before throttling the rungs of the ladder with an intensity that forced even his fellow team members back. Before he could slip his feet onto the rungs, a gentle hand tapped his shoulder. With a suppressed sigh, he released his hold, turning to face his friend and fellow teammate. “Rachel, I understand that you’re worried about me, but this isn’t exactly something that you can help me with.”  
Undaunted, Rachel placed her arm on his, brown eyes sparkling. “Kurt, I know it’s not something to do with Burt, otherwise you’d have pulled out. And don’t interrupt me because you know it’s true.”   
As noted, Kurt closed his mouth, if only to spare himself from more of Rachel’s arguments. “So tell me Kurt, what is it?”   
Kurt sighed, before gently easing himself out of her grip. “I need some rest, that’s all.” The rungs trembled again as he pulled himself up, stifling a yawn as he did. _I really need to sleep._ He continued his upward climb, the shouts and splashes of his teammates growing dull in his ears. _I made a promise to Dad that I would win gold for him._ He continued to climb, memories of his father’s smiling face in his hospital bed supplementing him with energy.

_You breathe. You place the helmet on. You glove up, stretching the muscles in your shoulders and neck in the progress. You hear the excited chatter of the crowd, the last-minute advice of your coach. You stand up, trying to work out the final kinks in your body. You step into the centre of the ring, facing your opponent, heart racing in nervous anticipation. You hear the announcements. You acknowledge your opposing fighter. You prepare to fight. The command sounds. You fly at your opponent, fists and guards on your mind. The minutes fly past. The first round is over. You prepare for the second. If only reality didn’t get mixed in._

Ignoring his exhaustion, Blaine Anderson launched his energy into the bag in front of him, eyelids fluttering over his hazel eyes, butterflies over flowers. _I need to find a way to sleep._ He launched into a jab-cross-uppercut combo, fumbling on the final devastating technique, his signature technique. He heard a groan sound from his brother-turned-coach as he slumped bodily against the bag, desperate to snatch up precious seconds of sleep. “Squirt! You have got to stay focused! Your match is in two days and it’s going to be INTENSE!”   
Blaine winced at the unneeded emphasis on the final word, headache shaking him roughly around his shoulders as said word boomed inside his eardrums. “Cooper! In case you haven’t realised, I am practically asleep on my feet because of the fact that I get none in the Village!”   
Cooper cocked a perfectly plucked eyebrow, an action that Blaine had long associated with cliché comments. “Getting it good eh?” Blaine let out a groan of despair, loud enough so that the eyes of the entering athletes widened in shock. _Which reminds me…_ Blaine spun around to face Cooper, haze tearing at his vision. “Training sessions over.”   
Cooper’s eyes widened comically as he hurriedly gripped Blaine’s shoulder. “Come on little bro! It’s not-”   
Blaine silenced him with a glance to the clock. _Even though I’m not sure if that’s actually a clock._ “Okay Blaine, yes the training session’s over-”   
Blaine turned around with a sigh, gloved hands rubbing into his eyes. “Coop. I’m sorry if I’m being rude but I do not need another one of your talks right now!” His pent up breath dashed out of his trembling body in a huff as he quickly tugged of the sweat-stained gloves. “I just really need to sleep.”  
 Cooper crossed his arms as he considered his brother, a practiced look of hurt on his face. “I suppose that a little rest wouldn’t hurt.” A chuckle slipped out of Blaine’s lips as he yanked his bag out of the lockers and proceeded back to the village. “You’re still getting the emotional tornado tomorrow!”

_It is not possible to be this tired._ Kurt stumbled his way into his room, empty of life save for the dissipating sunbeams flittering in through the drawn gauzy curtains. Oh yes, and the continuous sounds of pleasure being emitted through the walls that surrounded him. _Screw this._ He tossed his bag haphazardly onto his bed, searching through his main luggage for a pair of binoculars (which he had bought for sightseeing reasons thank you very much) before exiting the room and entering the balcony that overlooked the courtyard, lungs filling with the crisp air; a welcome change from the stench of chlorine that seemed to seep into the pores of his body. _It’s almost peaceful out here._ With a content sigh, his drooping sea blue eyes began to roam the buildings opposite, fingers twitching around the straps of the binoculars, raising and lowering them in an almost-rhythmic manner. A sudden flash of light caught his fancy, and with a movement that betrayed his exhaustion, he heaved the binoculars to his eyes. What he saw made him smile.

_Do people ever stop?_ That had been the question that had been plaguing Blaine’s mind ever since he had slipped back into his empty room. He hummed in a sound of appreciation as his lungs sucked in air that didn’t stink of sweat. _At least its quieter out here._ He lifted his camera (which had made the journey with him in order to take mementos) to his eyes, panning it slowly across the buildings opposite his. A sudden flash of sunlight caught his eye and fingers slipping in surprise, he realised with a click, that he had taken a photo. _I’ve got to turn it to Auto!_ Quietly berating himself, Blaine quickly settled the camera to the ground before reaching for an ever-present pen and paper pad – _Thank God for old habits_ \- hurriedly scrawling a message on it before lifting it to his chest. _Please see this._ The flash caught his eyes once more.

Kurt grinned at the site reflected through the binoculars, as he slowly lowered them and returned into the noise of his room, the message imprinted in his suddenly-awake mind. Quickly, he located the provided pen and paper pad, before dashing back out onto the balcony, raising his binoculars in an almost salute as he held his own message up. Seconds later another synthetic flash drew his vision and he lifted his binoculars again. Giggling to himself, he scrawled a replying message, raising his signal simultaneously. He held his breath as he waited for the reply. As if hesitant, the beautiful man across the courtyard flashed another sign after what seemed minutes of debating. Kurt’s breath caught in his chest. He scrawled his final message.

_ Years later:  _

Blaine smiled to himself as he dug through the boxes, the pleasant smell of their history filling the air. With a grin, he pulled out the box that he had been searching for, at Kurt’s (and their kids’) insistence. With a gentle smile he eased the box open, propping it easily in his arms as he descended down the attic stairs, the contents thrumming themselves through his memory.

_Hey there! If you’re reading this, I’m sorry if I disturbed you! Please go on with your business and pretend that my camera didn’t take a photo of you.  
That’s okay! I’m flattered that your camera thought so highly of me to rebel against its owner though.   
What can I say, it can’t be tamed. Which brings me to think that getting an accidental candid wasn’t your intention for coming outside.   
Ugh, you’re right about that! I haven’t been able to sleep since I got here! You’re the first real peace I’ve had in days! Care to tell me your calming methods?   
Only if you tell you mine! Do you care to meet me in the courtyard right around now? Or any time you wish. My name’s Blaine. Kurt. And I’d love to._


	8. Western AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody! It’s Western Klaine week so let’s get started! I also want to apologise for the late submission as listening to the Brokeback Mountain soundtrack has just been proven to give one immense feels.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Glee or Klaine, probably never will. 
> 
> Note: This was first submitted to the Klaine AU Fridays Tumblr under the name of E and to my fanfiction account of the same name. This also features Tike and Klaine! Some of the dialogue was inspired by Kill Bill and there are some references to Brokeback Mountain if you squint. 
> 
> Warnings: A classic saloon showdown i.e. some violence but none too graphic
> 
> Spoilers: Character from The First Time

“Hands where I can see em’ cowboy. And don’t go dilly-dallying about it.”  
A deceptively innocent smile flowered across Tina Cohen –Chang’s face as the trembling men in front of her did exactly as she ordered. _Well, of course he’s doing that, I’m the one holding the bigger gun here._ With another devilish smile, her almond-tinted eyes reviewed the scene before her as she swept down the creaking stairs of The Yellow Nightingale. _Well, as far as standoffs go, this isn’t the worst._ As her black dress swirled with the dust of the Old West, worn leather daintily toed the scuffed wood of the drinking den. “If there are any of you sons of she-dogs who want to scurry away, now’s the chance.”  
When not one person moved, Tina sighed and shifted the shotgun into a more accommodating position. _Let’s hope nobody actually has to die this time. It’s bad for business._

 _This is by far, one of the worst standoffs we’ve had. And that’s even including the time the Reformed Warblers crew attempted to hold us hostage._ With a feigned sigh, Kurt Hummel moved his pistol in the direction of the outlaw who had thought to discreetly reach for his revolver, drawing his attention with a sharp whistle and a piercing glance of sea blue. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Ignoring the warning, said outlaw charged forward, fingers expertly curling around the remainder of the gun. As if to prove the warning, an unseen projectile hissed through the air, landing with a solid _crack_ to the intended target’s kneecap. As the man curled in the dirt and dust in suppressed agony, Kurt calmly stepped out from behind the bar, wiping his free hand on a dusty shirt, before panning the pistol across the room, an almost-smirk painted on his lips as he did. “Anyone else want to join Screamy down there? Because that can be arranged.”

 _Oh, Sam’s gonna cry when he finds out he missed out on this._ With an appreciative hum, Blaine Anderson cocked his personal pistol, slowly lifting it between the eyes of the gambler who had thought him an easy target. “Back off pal. In case you haven’t noticed, you don’t mess with Wyoming cowboys. Especially those who are better armed than you.”  
As if in agreement, a second pistol cocked behind his back. With a grin, Blaine stepped lazily to the side, pistol never leaving his opponent’s face, revealing yet another cowboy; his short spiky hair crowned with a beaten Stetson hat, a similar grin on his equally handsome face. Amber eyes dancing, Blaine slowly repositioned his pistol, aiming instead for any challenger daring to step forward, of which there were many. _Okay Anderson, you may have gotten yourself worked into a corner._ He heard the spurs on Mike’s boots click against a wall. _Literally._ His grins grew wider. _Perfect._

 _One of these days, I’ll actually be able to finish a drink and enquire about Tina._ Michael Chang Jnr. sighed as he flicked his pistol from side to side, ebony eyes jumping dangerously from outlaw to outlaw. In front of him, his fellow cowboy did the same, raven curls dropping in a tender net onto his brow. As yet another outlaw dressed in cliché all-black garments – _Don’t they know that black absorbs the most heat?_ – stepped menacingly forward, Mike took another calculated step. _In one, two, three…_ He felt the metal spur on the back of his heel push gingerly against the unrelenting wall. _Done._ He saw Blaine’s lips purse up in a wider grin as he noticed. _It takes two to do this._  

As complete and stubborn silence swamped the saloon, Cooter Menkins groaned as bead after bead of sweat began to crown his flattened hair. _We need to step up our game. The Coyotes have already had a head start and we need to catch up._ He strode forward, trying his hardest to ignore the threatening clicks of guns pirouetting in his direction. _Goddamn it! All we needed was the booze! It’s the one thing that’s keeping morale up! Why can’t they just give it to us?_ He took another tentative step forward, carefully sliding off his hat in the process. The warm breath of fresh air against his scalp was barely a relief. “Okay guys, we just need to take some booze and…”  
He never finished his answer as a high-powered shot shattered the plank before his toes, its deadly splinters nipping at nearby flesh through weathered clothing. Before his heart could return to his body, another shot rang out, this time slashing through a lock of hair. Before gravity could tackle the free cowlick, yet another singing shot trilled, Cooter’s hat dropping to the ground with a defeated _thud_ , a smoldering exit wound in the leather. A too-large exit wound. As the silence returned with a vengeance, all unfamiliar eyes drew to the counter, scratched with bullet holes. Including two fresh ones.

The display of accuracy and firepower was the last straw for the desperate outlaws. As organised as a herd of untamed horses, they barreled out of The Yellow Nightingale, leaving only dirt and dust in their way. As the echoes of hoofs died away, Kurt raised an eyebrow at the two frequent customers before him and Tina, a nervous smile on their lips, before sea green kissed amber. “Well now that’s settled, may I ask, would you like something to drink?”  
A pretty rose bloomed in their cheeks, as Blaine and Mike stepped forward, identical smiles on their faces. “Yes. But only if you join two hardworking cowboys.”  
Tina smiled, almond meeting ebony in an affectionate embrace. “Of course.”


End file.
